


Eyes of Silver, Hair of Gold

by inkstone



Category: Claymore
Genre: Gen, Warrior Women
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 11:00:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5866819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkstone/pseuds/inkstone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Selected memories from the life of a warrior.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eyes of Silver, Hair of Gold

Teresa killed her first yoma not too long after becoming a full-fledged Claymore. It surprised her how easy the act itself was, almost like training. Even the fact that he hadn't yet transformed, had still been wearing his human guise when her sword sliced through his neck, hadn't slowed her down. Just like striking a piece of meat.

A small part of her wondered if it had been the Organization's initiation that made her like this.

The rest knew those men had nothing to do with it at all.

*

When her parents died, the victims of yet another yoma attack, she went to live with her aunt and uncle. They put her to work immediately because there was always work to be done on the farm, even by a child: animals to feed, crops to harvest, clothes to mend. An extra mouth to feed meant the owner of that mouth had to earn her keep.

And Teresa did exactly that.

So it went until her tenth birthday.

*

Teresa didn't sleep in a bed. Her cousins were crammed four to a lumpy mattress so rather than join them, she slept on the floor next to the hearth, curled up beside the family dog. If they thought it strange, they never mentioned it to her face although she knew they whispered enough behind her back. As if it made a difference whether they insulted her to her face or not.

She'd learned long ago not to show her reactions, to make of her face a mask. It irritated her cousins, her lack of expression, but she let that not bother her. She couldn't afford to.

*

Three months before her tenth birthday, a man stopped by the farm. There was nothing particularly striking or memorable about him. He was old and friendly enough. In fact, the only thing that stood out about him was that he wore entirely black. Teresa found this completely impractical considering the fact that it was the height of summer and the heat was killing the crops.

In fact, a drought affected the entire region. Streams were drying up, the harvests were more meager than normal, and brushfires were springing up on a near-daily basis. 

People would go hungry this winter.

*

Among them were her family. She knew it was bad when they began to restrict the food at dinner. Most days, more often than not, they ate beans and bread. Soon it became stale bread. Teresa knew things had become dire the day she found a small scrap of crust awaiting her.

Then the man in black came back.

*

Her silence unnerved her family. She knew that. She knew she should be screaming and crying, that they'd exchange her for a few bits of gold, as if blood meant nothing in these times.

"Please understand," her uncle pleaded with her. "You're a strong girl. You'll be fine with them. They'll take care of you."

Teresa merely stared at them. Everyone knew what happened to the girls who were taken away by the Organization. Most of them never came back, and those who did were silver-eyed witches.

Her aunt sighed with exasperation. "Oh, take her away. She's more trouble than she's worth. Besides, look at her. She'll be trouble when she's older." And with that, she turned her back and Teresa never saw her family again.

*

Two years into her training, she received news of her relatives' village. It'd been wiped out by a yoma attack.

Poor villages always were. They couldn't afford the fees the Organization charged for protection.

*

She met Irene the day after she woke up. The warrior looked down her nose at her. "Too bad the hair's gone."

Teresa attacked her.

*

Teresa stood next to Irene as they watched the yoma attack the village. "Brings back memories, eh?"

She met the other woman's eyes squarely. She'd never told Irene of her past and she'd never asked Irene about hers. It didn't matter anymore. The dead were dust and ashes beneath their feet and lost to the wind.

"Let's go."


End file.
